


someday, you will find me

by kendrasaunders



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Post 3x07, they're discussing how angry they are with barry so don't expect flowers there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 13:21:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8669236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kendrasaunders/pseuds/kendrasaunders
Summary: cisco and caitlin have a heart to heart over chinese food following the events of "killer frost."





	

Sometime around 6:30, he takes her out for Chinese.

She says, “I’m not sure. I haven’t slept in like, 36 hours.”

He says, “Good. You won’t go to bed on an empty stomach then.”

She says, in that soft way that tells him she doesn’t want any help, “Cisco.”

He says, in the way that tells her too bad, she’s going to get it anyway, “Caitlin.”

She lets out a tiny breath, a sign of assent. “Okay,” she replies. “But we’re going to the place I like more.”

“Hey,” he says, and there is an urge to link his arm through hers. “Whatever you want.”

“You’ll also need to drive,” she says. “My car is-“ 

“Still parked outside that guy’s house, yeah,” Cisco says. “Don’t worry. We’ll get Joe to waive the tickets.”

“No, no,” Caitlin says. “I’ll pay them. I should, I mean. I deserve to.”

He opts for folding his hand over hers. To say both hey, I’m here, but also, can we get moving? “Cait,” he offers. “Save the heavy stuff for the main course.”

That earns him something fond across her features, not quite a smile but a twinkle in her eye that seems to be exclusively his. “Okay,” she says. “Yeah. Okay.” 

“First round of dumplings is on me,” he says. “Come on. We’ll even get them with crab and pork.”

“You don’t like crab,” Caitlin says.

“Yeah,” he says. “But you do.”

She gives an affirming nod, and she loops her arm through his.

He wonders if she’d read his mind, if he’d been giving off signals, or if this is simply something of her own volition. He doesn’t mind having her pressed to his side, slender and still uncertain.

“The second round is spicy dumplings, though,” he tells her.

“Oh come on,” she says. “Those always hurt so bad!”

“Your white sensibilities are not my fault,” he says, to which she laughs.

It may end up being her last laugh of the night. Of that, he can’t be entirely sure.

 

 

He has a mouthful of hot soup when she says, “So. Do you want me to talk about it?”

He thinks of Barry asking him the exact same thing, and he thinks that perhaps he should just suck the rest of the dumpling into his mouth, just let the burn of it fill his thoughts for a beat of nothingness.

Instead he sets the dumpling back into its spoon. Sucks on his teeth. “I don’t know,” he says. “Honestly, I just wanted to be around you.”

She has her chopsticks rested on her plate, just above the leaked soup the floods over white ceramic. “I don’t know either, honestly,” she says. “I don’t know what talking about it will do. I don’t know what can be done, really.”

The thing about Caitlin is that she always understands his points before he makes them, that their minds operate on the same frequency. He pokes his chopstick into the soy-ginger mix, and doesn’t meet her eyes. “Why did you tell me about Dante?”

She’s shifting positions in her seat, rubber and foam and cheap metal lightly squeaking under her weight. When she is anxious, she crosses her right leg over her left. He doesn’t have to look up from the strings of ginger he’s staring at to know how she’s sitting right now. “Because I wanted you to fight Barry with me.”

He dips his chopstick too far to one side, and the small dish clatters, making him pull back and watch the soy sauce angrily swirl round and round as the dish resettles. “You what?”

“I-“ He knows she’s going to be wiggling her right foot now. “You have an id and an ego and a superego, right?”

He should look at her. “Yes,” he says, slowly. “Okay.”

“When I’m in that mindset,” she says. “It’s like- It’s like I only have an id. Like there’s no checks and balances in my brain. I said to myself, how can I make Cisco hate Barry like I do? How can I show him I’m the only one there for him?”

“Oh,” Cisco says.

“It’s all selfishness,” Caitlin says. “And when I started losing control, a lot of that selfishness was centered around you.”

His eyes find her mouth first, and he thinks her lips are still too discolored if he squints. “Why?”

“Because you’re my best friend,” Caitlin says, and he watches her teeth as her lips move around them. “And I’m furious at Barry for doing that to you.”

“Honestly?” he says. “So am I. And for what he did to you.”

“Maybe-“ Caitlin says, and falters. “Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad. If it had just been to me.”

“Bull,” Cisco says. “I’d still be mad.”

“You don’t deserve this,” Caitlin says. “Of all of us. You lost your brother, I don’t even know what I am anymore, and-“

“You lost Ronnie,” Cisco reminds her. “Maybe we could’ve gotten him back.”

His eyes move up, to her nose. Her nostrils flare. A sign of anger. Not sadness. “I know.”

“It’s weird,” Cisco says. “I want to not be angry. I really, really do.”

“I know the feeling,” Caitlin says.

“But that’s also-“ He feels the anger of it building up in his throat, the bile of it. He harshly swallows and hopes for the best. “I don’t blame you for it. I- I get it.”

She shakes her head. “You’re a good person,” she says. “You wouldn’t-“

“I said that I get it,” Cisco says. “I get how it feels to tune out everything but the worst parts of yourself. I get why you’d want to just forget and let go.”

“But I can’t let go,” Caitlin says. “Do you know- That thing Barry did, when he asked me to kill him?”

“Yes,” Cisco said.

“Do you have any idea how badly I wanted to?” Caitlin asks.

When he meets her eyes, they’re wet. “Yeah,” he says. “I think I do.”

“Cisco,” she says, quietly.

“It’s funny, too,” Cisco says. “Because it’s not like he- It’s not like, you know, he literally stabbed Dante in the throat, or something. It’s not even like Dante was a good brother. Had ever been a good brother.”

“Yeah,” Caitlin says. 

“But I just-“ He thinks about Dante. Pretentious, misgendering Dante. Dead Dante. “I don’t know. It’s not right.”

“No,” Caitlin says. “It isn’t.”

“He’s trying, I think.”

Without prompting, Caitlin takes his hand. “That doesn’t have to be good enough.”

“I know,” he says. 

“Neither does-“ She sucks on her lower lip. “I tried to hurt you.”

“Yeah,” he says. “But you tried to kill Barry.”

“I’m going to-“ He can watch her expression change, as she tries to navigate the knots in her stomach. “I thought I was doing it for us.”

“Us?” Cisco says.

“All id,” Caitlin reminds him. “All I want as Killer Frost is- Violence. I wanted Barry dead. I wanted you to fight me. I wanted you to hurt me, and keep hurting me. I thought it was fun. Exciting.”

He squeezes her hand. For a second, the edges of his vision blur- He can almost see the future, the same vision he’s been replaying over and over, whenever he closes his eyes. “I don’t ever want to fight you.”

“I know,” Caitlin says. “And I’m sorry that I- That I called you pathetic. You know you aren’t, right?”

Ever time her pulse comes through her thumb, his world tints slightly blue. His powers want him to see it. Want him to know. His instinct wants to warn him. His conscious mind pushes it away. “I mean,” he says. “How good can I be if I couldn’t help you?”

“You did,” Caitlin says.

“Not enough,” Cisco says. “And you still have to wear those cuffs, which is just unfair and feels kind of lowkey mean, and-“

“I don’t mind wearing them,” Caitlin says. “I like having a visible sense of being grounded.”

“What about me?” he asks.

For a moment, she glances at his lips. Back to his eyes. “You have always grounded me,” she says. “Always, Cisco. You have to know that.”

“But is it enough?” he asks.

“It is right now,” she says. “It is for me. I will always-“ She stops. “You will always matter to me. You could- You could come down with me.”

“Be Reverb, you mean.”

She winces at the name. “It’s what- It’s what Killer Frost wants.”

“I don’t,” he says, briskly. “He was- He was really horrible to you.”

“I deserve it.”

“No,” Cisco says. “You absolutely do not.”

“What if-“ He hears the seat shift again. Crossing her legs more tightly. To the point of discomfort. “What if you just looked the other way? What if you were bad sometimes, but not all the time? Not really? Just for me. Just so I wouldn’t be alone.”

“You’re not going to be alone,” Cisco says. “Caitlin-“

“No.” She reaches for her cup of tea, cooled by now. “That was- wow. That was so incredibly selfish to say. I guess that’s just all me, then, not even Killer Frost, just Caitlin, wanting you all to herself, just wanting to-“

“Stop,” Cisco says. He pulls out of her hand, moving to place his hand on his forehead. “Just- I’m sorry. I’m sorry, this is about you but it’s just- I need a moment.”

“I’m sorry,” she replies, and her voice is impossibly small.

He rubs his palm against his forehead, trying to will away the migraine he can start to feel blooming behind his eyes. It’s either stress or overstimulation or too much salt or all three. It’s either all for Caitlin or solely because he’s just kind of a fuck up. He’s either too good or not good enough.

He wrenches his eyes shut and pretends he isn’t watching them fight. He tells himself he’d never willingly do her harm but knows he already has.

He rubs at his eyes.

“I can only be me,” he says, slowly. “I can only be- This. I can’t hurt you, I can’t be the kind of person Killer Frost wants me to be and I can’t be the all-forgiving friend Barry wants me to be, either. I can’t save the world, Caitlin. I can’t even save-“

When he looks at her, finally, eyes open again, he notices she’s only lightly crying. He thinks he might be, too. His eyes certainly feel wet. Throat heavy and thick.

“Can’t save me?” Caitlin says.

“I don’t know,” he says. “I really don’t know.”

She nods, gently wiping at her cheek with the back of her hand. She nods, mostly in understanding, partially, as he recognizes, to shove down whatever she’s feeling. “Do you want to order some pea shoots?”

He folds his napkin over in his lap. Once, then again. “Yeah,” he says. “I’d like that.”

 

 

He walks in step with her to his car, her fingers wordlessly laced through his.

“I wish I could stay like this forever,” Caitlin says. She hasn’t put her coat back on, just wears it slung around her shoulders. “I want you to know that. That I’m sorry I can’t.”

“You keep saying that,” Cisco says. “But you never told me who decided it’s gonna be like that.” And he’d like to sound more contrary, he would- But something catches in his voice.

She does that thing she always does, the sort of half smile with her mouth closed. The quiet admission of sadness. “Me. Us. I think you know.”

“There’s ways to fix it,” Cisco says. “I mean, I know we’re not really in the inventive mood, but there’s got to be something we can do for you.”

“I-“ Her fingers shift along the piping of her coat, her nail polish making her fingers look like ants in row. “I don’t see that happening.”

“I won’t lose you,” he says. “You know that. Right?”

Her smile gets sadder still, and guiltier. “I don’t want you to.”

“Then fight,” he says. “Don’t leave it like this.”

“I will. I- I’m not going to,” she says. “I’m just- Stating what I think we both know is inevitable.”

He says nothing in return. There are things to say, of course- Reassurances, protests, some combination of the two. But they get jumbled in his head, mixed with the knot in his gut that reminds him of visions, seen and unseen. 

“Can I ask you something?” she says.

“Of course.”

Her gaze leaves his face, finds a spot over his shoulder. “Could you kiss me?”

He feels a thrum in his chest. “What?”

“Could you just-“ She draws her lips together. “I don’t think it’s like, the last-last time. Not yet, I mean. Not now. But I-“ She’s thinking of her words. Still fumbling. “I want you to kiss me.”

“Why?”

She almost chuckles at that. “Because I love you,” she says. “And you love me.”

It shouldn’t be stated so heavily. He thinks it could’ve been better, that there had been other ways to say it. Instead, he simply replies, “That’s true.”

“And-“ Ants in a row. Ants in a row. “We should do this. While we still have time.”

“You’re not dying, Caitlin,” he says.

She gives a half cocked grin to that, something mournful and certain. “Aren’t I?”

He approaches her with a timidness that seems uncouth, insensitive, but inescapable. He gently brushes his fingers against her jaw. Takes her chin between his thumb and index finger. “I do love you,” he says. “I have for a really long time.”

“I know,” she says. “I’m sorry.”

He tilts his head up and kisses her. There is no pretense to it, no greater message. Just the press of his lips to hers. He could say more with it. But it seems wrong. This is what she wants. Nothing else. Not right now.

She wraps her arms around his waist, moving insistently against his lips.

He responds by moving both arms around her neck. She’s not a quiet kisser, not as silent as he’d expected. Her noises are soft, small, almost pleading.

So he responds by deepening the kiss, one word perched between them. _Please._

Maybe hers means something else. Maybe his is too desperate and too cloying. This isn’t their last kiss. Not their last-last. She’d promised. She’d said as much.

She breaks first, cheeks flushed, hair falling in the space between her and Cisco.

“Do you want me to take you home?” he asks.

She considers it. “Could you stay?”

“With you?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she says. “Is that- Is that weird?”

“No,” he says. “Maybe. I don’t- For like, sex reasons, or-“

“I-“ She blinks at him. “We-“ She breaks into a sort of funny grin, one he feels the urge to return. And for a second they are Caitlin and Cisco, and this is a long time coming and it is not too late. “I mean- Maybe? We’d have to um- We’d have to see.”

“Hey,” he says. “No pressure. I just want to be near you.”

She nods. “I’d like you to be near me, too.”

His heart pounds in his chest. 

 

 

She says, “Do you think we missed our chance?”

He says, “We’re taking a chance right now.”

She says nothing for a long, long time, until quietly, she confesses, “That’s not what I meant.”

Her hands will not warm up, no matter how hard he tries. With her head against his neck, he says, “I know.”


End file.
